


Hidden Cynders

by ghastimafrix



Category: Spyro the Dragon (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Surprise! - Freeform, and general lore of the original trilogy's universe, anyway thats enough just word vom, as of todays update there are now more characters, bc i have so many ideas based around her, if i ever continue this i'll explain more about cynder, please enjoy, remember to tip your waitresses and stuff, takes place after year of the dragon, taking into consideration the dragon types, you know i deadass cannot find a comprehensive guide to the spyro lore for the originals?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22259161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghastimafrix/pseuds/ghastimafrix
Summary: (( Inspired by ReIgnited. ))“What about you?” The dragon asked, tilting her head. “How do you remember her?”Sheila shook her head.“You remember her so fondly. I don’t want to ruin that for you.”“But she hurt people,” she replied. “I want to know what she did. What she was like to everyone else...” There was a pause, then she added, more hesitantly; “I want to know if she’s worth fighting for, still.”
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile! I wrote this back in November 2019 when I was on a big Spyro kick. I had a whole lot of headcanon ideas towards Cynder in the ReIgnited universe and this was going to be just. The beginning of a whole series of stories, but in typical me fashion, I lost steam. :'D I might come back to it someday though! I hope you guys enjoy this regardless!

Cynder’s design in this story goes by [ Nicholas Kole’s design. ](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/4bX9w1)

Just a few months after the Sorceress was finally defeated for good, Sheila found herself hopping idly through her castle on Midnight Mountain, looking through it one last time before it was returned to the dragons who decided to return and repopulate the Forgotten Realms. With her gone, after all, they’d no need to stay on the other side of the world, and the newly-hatched dragonlets would need a place to live. Bianca had already cleared her things out of her room, ready to move to the other side of the world to be with Hunter and pursue magic under the Magic Crafters; now it was just a matter of redistributing the Sorceress’ belongings and making sure the rooms were truly empty. 

Between Spyro being caught up orienting the hatchlings and the rest of their usual companions off keeping their family and friends in order, Sheila was the only one with enough time on her hands freed up to take care of the issue; she didn’t mind it, though. Better this than bored, she figured; her own friends in the Alp swore to stay out of trouble for the day. She was sure it wouldn’t last, but… Some time away would do her some good, especially after being cramped up for so long.

So here she was, travelling the halls; remployed rhynocs were packing boxes in most rooms, waving nervously as she peered in past each doorway and receiving approving nods and waves from the ‘roo in turn. It seemed everything was covered; she almost felt useless and ready to turn around as she turned down a final hall… But hesitated, blinking as she found a stairway heading down beneath the main two floors. Tilting her head, the kangaroo started towards it, peering down to try and figure out what might lie at the bottom. It spiralled just a little too far for her to see, though, and she huffed, beginning to climb down.

It was a three minute walk at most, but it most certainly felt longer. For a moment, Sheila wondered if the existence of this downstairs floor warranted any investigation, for how long it felt, but the end came up sooner than she expected. Smiling faintly in relief, she tilted her head, examining where the stairs had deposited her. It was a short hallway, a single door sitting at the end that had an intricate design; the lobby-like design out front suggested the Sorceress had once stationed one or two rhynoc guards out front, but they hadn’t been around for a bit by the look of it. The door itself had a dark purple and red design on it, and looked quite fanciful, if vaguely unfitting towards the aesthetic of the rest of the castle. Almost hesitantly, she put a paw on the door, shaking it lightly to test if it was locked; finding that to be true, she shook a little harder, coming to the conclusion that the door was simply too tightly locked to open to a simple approach. Some kangaroo strength would have to do.

A pity for whoever designed the door, but she figured it was likely to be destroyed later anyway.

It took about three kicks to take it out, and Sheila panted for a second, examining the room she’d just broken into with newfound awe. As opposed to the door, the room itself matched the rest of the castle, decorated with reds, golds and other more regal colours and decor; the only differences were the lack of sunlight coming in through the windows, replaced by flame crystals to light up the space. It appeared to be a bedroom of sorts, absolutely lavish in decoration with all the typical comforts and then some, like a small garden in one corner and some sort of library by another. At the very back was a large bed, covered by soft looking blankets and pillows. Sheila blinked, taking it all in as she entered proper, only to pause as the blankets upon the bed shifted. There was clearly something alive underneath, and it made her nervous for a moment, tilting her head and squinting at the lump that she hadn’t noticed before.

“... Hello?”

It shifted again, the blankets lifting slightly to reveal two large, cyan eyes peering out from within. The kangaroo still couldn’t quite tell what was underneath, but it was sentient, and replied with soft hesitance of its own.

“Who are you? Why’d you break my door?”

From that line of questioning, Sheila gathered that the critter beneath the blankets meant no harm, either, and dropped her guard. Still, she didn’t have the slightest over what kind of creature the Sorceress would trap under her castle, and progressed closer, trying to make out some sort of shape as she answered the query.  
  


“Name’s Sheila. I had to kick it in to open it - it was locked up tight. Who… What are you?”

The eyes blinked once, twice, then disappeared for a moment, only for the creature beneath to shake off the blankets; Sheila stared openly at the form that was revealed to her. It was a dragon, sure; maybe a few dragon-years older than Spyro, with larger wings, but still relying on all four legs to keep herself upright. Silver cuffs adorned her neck and forelegs, though they appeared more like accessories than actual chains meant to keep someone imprisoned. 

“I’m Cynder,” She replied. “And I’m a dragon.”

“... What in the world is a dragon doing in the Sorceress’ basement?”

Cynder seemed to tilt her head as Sheila examined her, looking a little confused by the question. “I live here. She takes care of me - surely you know that, if you know her? Bianca knew…”

“She did?” The kangaroo stepped back, absolutely flabbergasted. The bunny had never made any mention of a dragoness under the Sorceress’ care; only of the eggs she’d stolen, and nothing more. Cynder, however, appeared sincere, nodding vigorously in confirmation. 

“She’s the one who found me and brought me to the Sorceress. After all the other dragons left and the Sorceress took her in as an apprentice, she found my egg and brought me here. The Sorceress raised me after that…” She sighed, then looked suddenly hopeful. “You - you know Bianca, right? Does she remember me? She’s probably all grown up now…”

“I’m sorry, Cynder, she never talked about you…”

“... Oh. Well, I guess it checks out. Haven’t seen her in years…” The dragon laughed awkwardly, sliding out of bed and standing on the ground before Sheila. “Well, I guess since you came down here, the Sorceress’ plan with the eggs worked? Is it time for me to fulfill my duty?”

“Your - Hold on, no,” Sheila shook her head, holding out her paws and staring openly at Cynder. “No, there’s… Whatever the Sorceress had planned for you, you don’t need to worry about. She’s gone.”

In that moment, Cynder went from slightly crestfallen to entirely shattered, wings going limp at her sides as she stared at the ‘roo. “What?”

“One of the dragons followed her trail and saved the eggs. They all hatched, and were returned home, and she... “

“... Oh.”

Sheila felt awkward - guilty, even - for being the one to deliver the news to this dragon, who seemed to consider the Sorceress a mother figure. Clearly, the tyrant hadn’t been cruel to her, aside from the solitary confinement she seemed to be stuck in. Still, Cynder didn’t allow herself to savour the news too long, shaking her head and looking at Sheila with barely any emotion.

  
“... So… Why are you here, then?”

“Cleaning up,” She managed forth, almost weakly. Those eyes… So large and pretty, they were quickly glossing over with pain. “The dragons are returning here, and they’ll be taking back the castle.”

“Ah. So that’s why you kicked down the door.”

“Yeah. For what it’s worth, you’re… Free, now.” She paused, then put a hand on the dragon’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to hear this from me. Do… Do you want help, up the stairs? I could introduce you to dragons, let you meet some of your own kind.”

There was a hesitation from Cynder as she looked around the room, taking in every detail about it; Sheila let her have the moment, glancing away in turn so as not to alienate the dragon. Finally, though, she took a breath and nodded, looking back to the kangaroo with the faintest resolve.

“I would like that, Sheila. Not the other dragons thing, but — the help. I don’t think I’m ready for other dragons, yet.”

“Fair enough,” Sheila smiled, nodding and turning tail to lead Cynder up the stairs. “Follow me.”


	2. Viewpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She was terrible,” Sheila had said. “Trapped a bunch of us, kidnapped dragon eggs, manipulated Bianca…”
> 
> Cynder couldn’t help but feel confused. “I mean, she had a temper, but… She was never that awful, at least… I thought…”
> 
> The kangaroo had given her a curious look, one ear twitching. 
> 
> “How do you remember her?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody asked for this, but it's what you're getting. Merry Christmas.

She’d been sitting in front of the picture for a long time.

_ “She was terrible,” Sheila had said. “Trapped a bunch of us, kidnapped dragon eggs, manipulated Bianca…” _

_ Cynder couldn’t help but feel confused. “I mean, she had a temper, but… She was never that awful, at least… I thought…” _

_ The kangaroo had given her a curious look, one ear twitching.  _

_ “How do you remember her?” _

_ “For starters, she was a good teacher.” _

The dragon remembered the long nights they spent awake together. The Sorceress would enter after most of her soldiers - and Bianca - had retired to their beds or gone to their next shifts, pull a couple books off the high shelf that Cynder couldn’t reach herself, and sit on the bed, teaching her a little bit at a time. Sometimes she’d bring in a rhynoc, bunny rabbit, or sheep as a test subject, and Cynder would show off what she could do with her breath in combination with the magic she was learning. The Sorceress always praised her quick learning, swore that she was progressing so much faster than Bianca. It made the dragon glow with pride to be impressing her matron, and she studied whenever she could, to do even better, be even greater. How it had pleased her.

_ “And she was brilliant.” _

Sometimes - very rarely, but sometimes - she would be allowed into the throne room, just on quiet days, to get some fresh air and sunshine in through the open windows. On these days, the Sorceress would allow her to practise flight, to work out her wings so they wouldn’t be underdeveloped. She typically called in one of the Hummingbird soldiers, her “girl on the inside” as she called her. She used these days to scheme as she watched them, rambling on about things that Cynder had gradually grown up enough to understand. She eventually learned about the magic drying up, and lent the Sorceress her two cents now and then as she brainstormed ideas on curing it. Later came the worry of her age - something Cynder hadn’t noticed until she’d mentioned it. Looking at her painting now, she realized it vividly - the wrinkles on her face that had been growing with every day, the way her voice started to rasp, how she hurt herself if she moved too quickly - signified only with a slight wince or soft grunt. She’d never liked to show weakness, but her aging had stressed her - Cynder knew that much. It had become her main concern in the days before the dragon had been locked in her room. She’d wished she could have done more to help.

_ “And… She showed it in weird ways, but she did care about us.” _

The Sorceress wasn’t a sensitive soul. She hadn’t outright said “I love you” in the time she’d known Cynder, or given her a hug or kiss - but she didn’t really need to. Cynder grew up under her care, and learned how she cared. It was in the tough love - the praises of usefulness and progress, the possessive hand on her head. The slight smile she got when discussing something with her - Cynder had always recognized the proud sparkle in her eyes when she talked about how dutiful Bianca was, though she doubted the Sorceress had ever expressed it to her apprentice. 

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Cynder reared up, gripping the picture frame in her talons and lifting it just enough to unhook it. She lowered it delicately to the ground, face up, and ran a paw over the varnish of the painting itself, taking in the Sorceress’ more youthful beauty. That was the way she remembered seeing her, beautiful and kind - ill-tempered at times, but passionate and powerful still. 

_ “What about you?” Cynder asked, tilting her head. “How do you remember her?” _

_ Sheila shook her head. _

_ “You remember her so fondly. I don’t want to ruin that for you.” _

_ “But she hurt people,” she replied. “I want to know what she did. What she was like to everyone else.” _

_ There was a pause, then she added, more hesitantly; “I want to know if she’s worth fighting for, still.” _

_ The kangaroo was quiet for a moment, staring openly at Cynder as if she hadn’t expected something so mature to come from her. Then, she nodded respectfully, turning her gaze to the sky. _

_ “She was a tyrant.” _

She sent rhynocs out of the castle regularly, Cynder learned. They terrorized the residents of the Forgotten Realm. They kidnapped and jailed those who tried to guard the lands that remained. She abused even her own troops, yelling at Bianca for the slightest failure. She commanded that they kidnap dragon eggs - Cynder had known that. That was her place in the plan - to be a dragon mother to those that were retrieved, to train them like the Sorceress had trained her and lead them to serve her causes. At the time, it had seemed noble. But, Sheila told her - at some point, that plan changed. She learned a spell to restore her youth, and she needed dragon wings.

That was what the hatchlings would be for. 

Cynder had shuddered hearing that, looking to her own wings. For a moment, she wondered why the Sorceress hadn’t just taken hers - but, she reasoned… Maybe it was out of a sense of love of her own. She had to hope for that much - because otherwise, the only other option was that she simply forgot about the dragon in her basement, and that hurt too much for Cynder to bear. 

Of course, it made the idea of her killing hatchlings to secure immortality no better, but she couldn’t stand the thought that her matron didn’t care about her. Not after all the support she’d been raised with. 

_ “I’m… I’m sorry.” _

_ Sheila shrugged. “Spyro dealt with her. Now it’s just a matter of cleaning up her mess, and rehabilitating the world for the dragons to come back.” _

_ There was another pause. Cynder stared at Sheila, and the ‘roo turned back to face her, ears flopping a little with her movement.  _

_ “We could use all the help we can get.” _

She dragged the painting along, grunting with effort; she managed to get it just outside the front door of the castle, and paused after dropping it, panting softly. She gave it a final look, pondering over everything she and Sheila had discussed. 

“... I miss you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing you,” She muttered, taking a deep breath. “But I’ll never miss the Sorceress you became when you locked me up. I can’t miss someone I never met.”

With that said, she felt heat swell in her chest, and released a bright green flame from her lungs. The picture was, unsurprisingly, very flammable, and lit up like a pyre under just one huff. Cynder straightened her posture with that, watching it burn for a minute before closing her eyes and lowering her head a little, standing a brief vigil for her matron - the one who had been depicted in paint, the one she wished she could have seen when her door opened again.

As the embers flickered out, and left behind nothing but ash where there had once been art, Cynder turned, taking in a fresh breath as she headed back into the castle.

She had to pack her things. There was work to be done. 


	3. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do they still see me as another threat? The next Gnasty Gnorc?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot be STOPPED.

"Are you ready, Cyn?"

"No," The dragon confessed, looking herself over in the mirror one last time before turning to face Sheila properly. "But my guess is we're out of time, right?"

Sheila couldn't help a grin. "Oh, relax! You'll be fine - everyone's looking forward to properly meeting you."

"You mean everyone who isn't from the Forgotten Realm," Cynder quipped, ambling over to Sheila's side while the 'roo sighed and nodded. "I did already meet Bianca and Sgt. Byrd."

"And they  _ loved _ you," Sheila chuckled, "So just relax and enjoy the party! Having fun won't kill you."

Cynder offered her a slight, nervous smile in response, and nothing more, as they left the room Cynder had been staying in to join the festivities.

-

_ This is gonna kill me. _

She'd mostly stayed out of the way, letting Sheila wander off to chat with Elora and watching the party unfold. A few times, she would stop her idling to play with the baby dragons, meeting the dragonflies as they paired up with the children she met. Yin and Yang caught her eye and seemed to hang around with her the most, already sporting their insect companions. Still, she was about ready to call the party quits for herself by now, all too aware of the glances she was getting from the elder dragons present. She'd anticipated judgement from them, though none had spoken to her yet.

_ Of course they hate you, _ chimed the little voice in her head,  _ not only are you a Poisonbrewer, but you're the daughter of the Sorceress. Heir to the Throne, closely guarded secret of the Forgotten Realms. They think you're a threat to the babies, just like Ripto, and just like the Sorceress.  _

She took a deep breath, shutting her eyes and rising to her feet.  _ I should leave. _

"Hey, you're that dragon Sheila found -- Cynder, right?"

Cynder jolted a little at the voice behind her, and spun around to face the addresser - relaxing a little as she glanced over the purple scales and orange crest.

"And you must be Spyro."

"That's me, alright! It's great to finally meet you," He smiled, coming off as friendly as could be. "The others have been talking you up for days."

"Enchantée," She offered with a smile, dipping her head with a sort of regal respect that seemed to take the hero off guard. "Everyone I know has sung your praises since I was released, too. I've gotta say, though," She added, tilting her head a little, "I was expecting someone a little more… Grown-up."

Spyro huffed out a laugh through his nose. "I used to get that a lot, but it's rich coming from you. How old are you, anyway? You don't even have a dragonfly!"

She only just noticed Spyro's companion - Sparx, if she remembered right - as he gasped and flinched, bumping into the dragon's head a few times as if to swat him for being indecent. She bit back a giggle, shaking her head.

"Older than you, that's for sure. For starters, I've grown into my wings. I can barely see yours!"

"Hey! My wings are big!"

"Yeah? How far can you fly with them?"

"Farther than you!"

Her eyes shone with playfulness - an attitude that was reflected in the purple dragon's as he crouched slightly, flaring his wings.

"That a challenge, shortie?"

"Bring it, princess!"

That did it.

What happened next could only be described as dinner and a show for the rest of the guests present. Cynder and Spyro fed into each-other's immaturity, launching into a series of challenges - who could glide the farthest (Cynder won), who could run the fastest (Spyro won), who could carry the most hatchlings on their back (Hunter won, against all odds considering he hadn't even been competing) - and, of course, a good old-fashioned duel.

It was there that the elders intervened just before the two could lock horns, one putting his tail between them to stop the event and earning groans of disappointment from the non-dragon onlookers. 

"That's enough for now. It's getting rather late, and we should be putting the hatchlings to bed before we continue with the party."

"Ohhh…. Alright, fine," Spyro sighed, pouting. His mood lasted all of two seconds, though, as he cast a sideways glance to Cynder and grinned again. "Rain check?"

Cynder hesitated, finally pulling her gaze away from the elders to stiffly nod and smile back. "Yeah! Sure! Rain check!"

"Great! I'll kick your tail, I promise!"

"Can't wait!"

She watched him hurry off with the Artisans, quickly rounding up hatchlings and sending them off towards the nearby castles for rest before turning her back on the scene, unable to shake the feeling that they had stopped because of her.

_ Do they still see me as another threat? The next Gnasty Gnorc?  _

Cynder grimaced at the thought, sighing and wandering away from the party, only to stop at a hand on her shoulder. She recognized the fur texture as Sheila's, and turned to look back at the 'roo, touched by her worried expression.

"Hey, Cyn, are you alright? The party's not over for a bit - there's supposed to be more over the next few hours. Agent 9 and Byrd were going to try a light show with the Dream Weavers."

"Oh, pff, yeah! Of course," She giggled, trying a little too hard to sell her act. "I just - the competitions got me fired up, I need to walk it off and cool down while they're sending the kids to bed."

Sheila relaxed a little, buying into the lie with a smile. "Well, I've heard that the gardens are beautiful during twilight. Why don't you go have a looksee? I bet you'll feel right as rain after a little wander!" 

Cynder took a deep breath, then nodded, changing her course. "Right! Sure! Thanks, Sheila. I'll be back soon."

The kangaroo saw her off with a smile and wave, and Cynder only dropped her forced smile once she was out of sight, entering the gardens through an arched hedge and wandering aimlessly for a bit, unsure of what to do with herself. She didn't really want to stay, after that - she didn't want to face the judgement of her elders again, not tonight, not any other day. What she really wanted to do right now was go back to her room and sleep, then go back to the castle -  _ her _ castle - tomorrow and pretend she'd never left in the first place. She wanted to hide away in her matron's throne room, to pretend everything was okay and that she was waiting for her to come home and say,  _ "It was all a trick and you figured it out, clever girl! Happy birthday!" _ , to which Cynder would reply,  _ "It's my birthday?! I had no idea!" _

She sat down in a clearing of the garden, staring up at the moon and letting her wings fall limp with a heavy sigh. It wasn't fake or a trick, tragically, and Cynder knew it well. 

_ At least Spyro was nice. _

Despite being the one to personally face off against all the baddies Cynder had heard about and known, Spyro didn't regard her unkindly at all. He'd been kind and playful - and encouraged her into the same state, which, looking back, she couldn't help but appreciate. It was like he knew how to get her to relax, and wanted to help in his own way. 

_ Maybe he wanted to show his elders I'm not a threat, too. _

She turned her head a little at the sound of paws shifting through grass, and pivoted enough to see the purple dragon appear from around a row of hedge, smiling a little as he met her gaze and trotted over to meet her.

"Sheila said you were out here."

"And so I am," She rumbled out, relaxing her posture as he drew to a halt and sat next to her. "Why'd you come?"

"Well, I finished with the babies, and Sparx had a hunch you were down, so we came out to check on you."

She waved a wing. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine. Really."

Spyro nodded a little, then turned to look at the moon. Cynder followed his gaze, her smile fading.

"... Hey, Spyro… Why'd you come engage with me? At the party?"

"You looked so lonely," He replied. "You were barely talking to anyone, just sitting there and looking around. I saw some of the elder dragons looking at you and whispering, too - I got a little peeved."

She heard him laugh softly.

"Then I saw you getting up to leave, and decided I would get to know you, on behalf of the Dragon Realms! Turns out, you're pretty weird."

Cynder snorted, finally turning to face him again and meeting his grin. " _ Ow, _ shortie!"

"That's not a bad thing," He laughed, swatting her gently with a wing, "But I think the others need to see that, too. I still want to know more about you, what you can do. I've never seen a dragon like you before. The elders called you a -"

" - A Poisonbrewer, yeah," Cynder breathed, her smile faltering. "The Sorceress told me about them. Most of them died out before she banished the rest of the dragons from the Forgotten Realms. They used to mostly live down there, made all sorts of weird creatures out of their concoctions. I don't know what  _ I  _ can do," She added, "all I know is that being a 'brewer makes my fire green and shapes my body differently."

"You are a little spikier than your average dragon," Spyro nodded. "Again, not a bad thing."

"... I would hope not."

He cringed a little, backpedalling.

"Well, the party should be picking back up again. You don't have to join us, but it'd be awesome if you did!"

She watched him rise to his paws and start out of the garden, thinking it over before standing in turn and following him out, shoulder-to-shoulder, with a soft smile. The hero returned it, as did his dragonfly, who chose to perch comfortably on her head while they walked back together. 

They returned just in time to enjoy the light show with the rest of their friends, Cynder pulling a wing around Sheila affectionately without realising it as her heart soared.

_ Okay. This party isn't so bad after all. _


End file.
